Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
SAWYER
F rom the forward rail of the ferry, I watched Hatterwick Island creep ever closer as the engines rumbled beneath my feet. The bottom of the chain of islands making up North Carolina’s Outer Banks, there was nothing imposing about its sweep of sandy beaches or the sole village of Sutter’s Ferry that occupied the southern tip, but my heart sped up, nonetheless. When I’d joined the Navy all those years ago, I’d had no idea I’d be coming home so infrequently. Since the island wasn’t exactly quick and easy to get to, short spans of leave had often been spent with my brothers in other locations. But beyond that, a lot of it had to do with the fact that I had no real home to come back to.
The house where I’d lived with my dad had been a rental. I’d let it go after he’d died and I’d enlisted. There’d been no memories I wanted to hang onto there. While I was rich in found family, visiting Rios’s sister or Ford’s moms still wasn’t the same as having a true home waiting for me, and I’d been the guy to turn down leave in the name of taking the jobs others didn’t want—a move which had helped me climb the ranks. I’d needed to make something of myself.
For all the good that did me now.
I was coming home with little more to my name than I’d left with. At least my bank account was healthier, so taking things one day at a time for a while wasn’t a problem. I had time to figure out what came next.
For today, that was a birthday party.
Would Willa be there?
Though we corresponded regularly through texts and emails, it had been nearly two years since I’d seen her. She’d been on a rare off-island trip the last time I’d been home for a visit, and I’d been simultaneously relieved and disappointed. She was the friend I’d always expected her to be. Nothing more, nothing less.
But things had never been the same between us. I blamed myself for the fact that she’d nearly drowned. Never mind that it had been my hands, my breath, that had brought her back. If not for me, she wouldn’t have been out in that storm to begin with. If not for me, she’d never have been dragged away from Hatterwick and had to endure… whatever she’d endured that had put those shadows in her eyes that she never spoke of.
That guilt made it hard to face her. So did the fact that, every time I saw her, I wanted to grab on and never let go. I’d had her life literally in my hands, and I felt responsible for her. Even now. As if I could somehow stand between her and anything or anyone that sought to hurt her. All of which was fucked up, considering the peripheral place I held in her life. But I was here in lieu of her brother as a favor to Jace. I was the one of us who had the flexibility just now, and it wasn’t as if I’d say no to my oldest friend. Given that she’d just lost the last of the family she acknowledged, I’d have come anyway. Probably. But coming back to Hatterwick, I’d finally have to confront all those complicated feelings about Willa—the ones her brother knew nothing about—and find a way to live with them.
The ferry captain announced our impending arrival, so I returned to my truck to wait for my turn to disembark. Twenty minutes later, I rolled off the ferry and onto the island. It felt different coming back this time, knowing there was no ticking time clock dictating my return to service for Uncle Sam. Like maybe I could actually relax and settle and be here. Maybe coming back to Hatterwick wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
The drive to Caroline and Hoyt’s place took less than ten minutes. At thirteen miles long and only three miles across at its widest point, it didn’t take long to get anywhere on the island. The multiple vehicles piled in the driveway told me I hadn’t missed the party entirely. Wedging my truck in at the end of the line, I climbed out, immediately catching the sounds of revelry from around back. I circled the renovated shingle-style house, now painted a bright, happy turquoise.
The birthday girl spotted me first.
“Uncle Sawyer! Uncle Sawyer!” Aubrey bolted toward me, running as fast as her little legs could carry her, her wild, dark curls trailing like a banner behind her. Before I could warn her not to, she’d hurled herself at me.
Shifting at the last second, I caught her with my good arm, managing to hold in the wince as I scooped her up and onto my hip. “You’re getting so big!”
“I’m seven today!”
“I know. Why do you think I’m here?”
Willa was on the far side of the yard. I zeroed in on her like a heat-seeking missile. But there were at least a half-dozen people between me and her, and I had no right to ignore them all to rush to her, even if that was a thing we did.
Which it wasn’t.
I spotted Aubrey’s mother, Caroline, on the verge of waterworks, and headed to her first. “Nope. No way. I know you’re doing the preggo thing again, but no crying.” I set Aubrey down and pulled the woman, who was the closest thing I had to a sister, in for a tight hug. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks for that.” She squeezed me tight, tight, before pulling back to study my face. “It’s good to see you. We didn’t know you had leave, so we weren’t expecting you. But there’s plenty of food for everybody.”
I was gonna have to come clean about that. But for the moment, I’d keep things easy. “It wasn’t exactly planned. But it’s good to be home.”
Bree Cartwright stepped up. “Got a pint with your name on it down at the Brewhouse, if you’ve got time to stop by while you’re here.”
It never got less weird seeing her without Ford. But they’d had some falling out when we’d enlisted and hadn’t ever patched things up. I was just grateful that her ire hadn’t spilled over onto the rest of the Wayward Sons, given she ran the best bar on the island.
“I’ll make time. Thanks.” I gave her a hug, too, before moving on to shake her grandfather Ed’s hand.
Then I came to Willa. Like everyone else, she was dressed for a summer beach party, her sun-streaked hair pulled back into a loose braid that trailed over one shoulder. I noted the signs of strain around her changeable hazel eyes, though her mouth curved into a soft smile I wanted to think was just for me.
“Hey, Wren. I’m sorry about your grandparents.” It was a paltry thing to offer, but I had nothing else.
“Thanks.”
We stared at each other for a long moment before I gave in to the urge to hug her. The embrace was awkward and didn’t last long. Because we’d stopped being hugging friends a long time ago.
“I kept my promise.”
Willa angled her head. “Which promise was that?”
I offered a rueful half-smile. “Not to die.” She’d issued that edict before I’d boarded the ferry to leave for basic training, right after the last real hug we’d shared.
Her face remained a neutral mask, but I thought I saw relief in her eyes. “I’m grateful for that. What are you doing here?”
Her tone was mild, but I heard the underlying rebuke and knew I’d have to explain myself.
Rocking back on my heels, I shoved my hands into my pockets to keep myself from reaching for her again. “Well, the whole not dying was sort of a near thing.”
Amid a chorus of gasps, Willa flinched and stepped toward me before she seemed to catch herself.
“I just finished a two-month stint at Walter Reed, healing up from some injuries. I’ve been officially honorably discharged for medical reasons. I won’t be going back.”
She seemed to struggle to hang on to her careful neutrality. “So you’re done with the Navy?”
I winced. “Well, the Navy’s done with me, anyway.” I’d get used to it. Eventually.
“What will you do now?”
That’s the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question.
“Come home. I haven’t figured anything out yet, but this was my first stop when coming back on-island.” I forced a smile that I hoped looked more genuine than it felt. “I couldn’t miss Aubrey’s big seventh!”
“Yeah!” Aubrey pumped her little fist. “Let’s eat!”
As the rest of the assembled guests queued up, Willa didn’t move. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Her soft voice may as well have been a shout for all that I felt her betrayal.
“I didn’t want to worry you.” It was the truth, if not the whole of it.
“And you didn’t think your silence would make me worry?”
I opened my mouth to protest, but she had a point. One I hadn’t considered between surgeries and agonizing PT. “Fair point. I’m sorry.”
A behemoth black dog materialized like a ghost at Willa’s side, leaning into her hip. Her hand dropped to his ruff, and something in her posture relaxed incrementally.
“Clearly, this is Roy.”
“Yep, this is my baby.”
I’d heard about the dog, but this was the first time I’d met him. He was a massive bastard, who could easily take a chunk out of anybody who so much as looked at his mama wrong. His big golden eyes studied me and seemed to say the jury was still out.
Moved along by the rest of the guests, I turned my attention toward filling my plate. I ended up at a table with Bree and Ed. Because she’d been toward the end of the line, Willa seemed to have nowhere left to sit other than next to me. Knowing she’d likely prefer to be at the outside edge, away from the bulk of the guests, I’d chosen the end of the bench closer to the house. It was the kind of concession I’d always made for her, and she glanced at me with something that might have been gratitude before taking her seat.
“It’s a hell of a thing, celebrating life one day and mourning death in the same week,” Ed muttered.
I blinked and looked at Willa. “Your grandfather’s funeral? I didn’t realize it hadn’t happened yet.” Jace hadn’t mentioned that. Then again, Jace hadn’t known a whole hell of a lot when he’d messaged me.
“Granddaddy wanted to be cremated. That took time. We’re having a dual memorial for both him and Grandma in a few days, per their wishes.” She cut a piece of burger and fed it to Roy. “I put it off a bit, hoping Jace would be able to come home. But he’s out of contact on a mission right now, as usual, so here we are.”
No. He’d sent me instead.
Temper flashed that he wasn’t here for her when she needed him. Again.
I knew he had his duties, and that their relationship was strained, but this was fucking ridiculous. He was the only family she had left that she acknowledged, and a funeral likely meant she’d have to face the ones she no longer claimed.
“Are your parents coming?”
Willa stiffened as if I’d hit her with an electric shock. Roy immediately shoved his enormous head under her arm in comfort. “Presumably. They’ve been informed by my grandparents’ attorney. I haven’t communicated with them directly.”
They’d been fully estranged since she’d turned eighteen, but I hadn’t been sure if the recent deaths had changed that. Evidently not. I knew something had happened with her parents during her time off-island. I’d known it that summer I’d joined the Navy, though she’d never talked about it, and I’d left anyway, telling myself that she’d be fine.
She wasn’t fine. And I knew the prospect of dealing with them again, on even a limited basis, would have her wound up in knots that even a sailor would be challenged to untie.
“Okay. Where and when?”
She frowned at me. “What?”
“Jace may not be here, but I am. I’m not letting you face them alone.”
I didn’t want to let her face anything alone ever again. Not if I could help it.